Tsumibito's P.O.V
It is only but a few minutes past six in the eve. The spearing rays of the setting sun cast and lengthen shadows in my chamber -both upon marble floors and upon walls. Yet she failed to show up for the evening's training sessions much as I'd sent multiple maid servants to call for her. Last I saw the lass had been when she'd brought tea up to the study some hours back.
The rage is there, I feel it combust my guts and set my body ablaze at her hard-headedness. But I know better than to act on my barbaric nature. I coerce my mind to return to reality, blink once, blink severally to discard all thoughts of she. For long minutes, I gaze upon the blueprint clutched in my palms, analyzing, memorizing and marking all key points.
Soon as I wind with my commissions, I set it cautiously inside one of the drawers of the bedside table before getting from atop the softness of bed. I pad over to the liquor cabinet, retrieve a bottle of scotch, pour myself a glass of the amber, place the bottle back.
I tread lightly in the direction of the balcony, glide the doors open, slip right through. I stand by the railings, clutch the dense steel to support myself, tip the glass, sip the liquor. It continues to burn as it trails lower and lower down my throat and oesophagus. And yet that is what makes it all the more pleasant.
From a grave distance, the horizon continues to paint and taint with a blend of hues -a baby blue, a distant lilac and a gentle pink. I look to the lands I call my home, glance upon the large pagodas that stand proudly in their flamboyance, look upon the little terrazzo corridors and the tarmac roads that lead to the large steel gates, gaze upon the cherry blossom trees that shed little flowery petals into small ponds that sit still like the waters of a swamp.
Yes, even monsters may ravish the pleasures of nature and all it entails. A gentle breeze sweeps, whispers in my ears in tongues unfamiliar. For a second, I let my eyes flutter shut. Peace, serenity, tranquility has never felt so tangible. I could almost taste it. Unfortunately, my calmness is only short-lived.
As I reopen my eyes, I finally take in the view of Obal who skirts around clutching a large laundry basket to her right side. She pads down terrazzo halls till she comes up to one of the pagodas. She knocks knuckles softly upon the mahogany-wood doors and as soon as they glide open, the buff figure of Joktan -my second in command- comes into view.
She bows curtly, smiles up at the lad, hands him his neatly-folded garment. Look at how she smiles so sweetly as though he were her lover. Or perhaps he may be. Have they known each other for a period of time? Of course they have, she's been delivering laundered clothes to each pagoda for months now.
Soon as she turns to take her leave, he grabs her by the upper arm, causes her to halt dead in her tracks, mouths something to her. She turns to face back at him, of course she does, and the man works to look from his left to his right suspiciously. He leans forward, whispers a thing, then draws back to scrutinize her features.
Again, I tip the glass, sip from it, swallow. My grip upon the railings tightens a tad bit, a new anger surges, it begins to wreck some kind of havoc in my mind. He speaks for long minutes and she hesitates in her steps as though contemplating on whether or not she should accept whatever proposal he offers with gladness.
If she proves as intelligent as I deem her, then strutting her way into the lad's home should be the last thing on her mind. He stands to the side, gestures that she come in -smirk clearly etched on his lips. Oh, and she does, she actually fucking does. The laughter bubbles up my throat, tumbles past my mouth as my head shakes from side to side.
My grip upon the glass proves far too firm, the glass shatters, the liquid spills onto marble floors instantaneously. Sparing my palm a few seconds worth a glance, I take notice of how the crimson begins to ooze from the little slits and tiny slashes. Yet my brain is only able to register the hurt in my heart.
YOU ARE READING
Red As Snow...(BWAM, Yakuza Romance, 18+)
Romance"Growing up, my mama always told me one thing; bad company did corrupt good morals. I did not believe her, did not believe those words she'd said to me with such conviction. That was until I crossed paths with a man so lethal, a man so utterly consu...
